


And nobody can take this from us

by GhostlyVoid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Affection, Fluff I'd say, Hugs, M/M, Post season 14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 15:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19336924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostlyVoid/pseuds/GhostlyVoid
Summary: It's not a secret between them that they associate their hugs with the end of the world. It's time to change that connotation.





	And nobody can take this from us

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before Season 15

They are cleaning up America. They are cleaning up the sea of monsters Chuck left them behind before he disappeared again. With no rest between hunts, the next two already lined up before they finished with their current one.

When Sam hugs him after they stumble back to their motel room from dragging a djinn through a shredder machine, alarm bells go off in Dean’s mind almost instantly — through the hazy fog in his brain that tells him he’s running on too little hours of sleep and it’s only a matter of time until he’ll slack off mid hunt and get himself hurt.

The hug is short, and Sam smears some red gooey substance between their shirts, which doesn’t really matter, since they’re both dirty with guts and other bodily fluids anyway. Dean makes a face as Sam peels off his shirt and flings it directly into the trash. It makes an ugly wet slap and Dean feels sorry for the person who’s going to clean their room after they leave tomorrow morning.

Sam looks at him with pain in his eyes but doesn’t tell him what’s wrong. Dean doesn’t know what happened but Sam isn’t injured so he’s going to let it slide. He’s too beat to have a conversation and definitely too beat to have an emotional one at that. He just hopes the world isn’t ending.

  


They fell into their new hunting routine with natural ease. It’s nothing they haven’t done before — job after job after job. Both are still on edge, expecting Chuck to pop up at any moment or another big bad surprise they’re not equipped for.

Sam hugs him after the next hunt, and the next, and by the fourth time Dean understands it’s not about the hunts. There were no near death moments he hadn’t noticed and nothing dreadful was impending. Because one day, Sam wraps his arms around him hours after they’ve killed their monster of the week. They’re back in the bunker from a supplies run for beer, steak, potatos, and for fuck’s sake, kale, as they are planning to take the evening off for once. The hunt had been in Kansas, and they deserve a goddamn break.

Sam’s not reeking of death and he’s not trembling from residual adrenaline. The hug is gentle and heartfelt rather than a desperate reflection of their last kill. It makes Dean wonder if something bad is approaching after all. He pushes Sam back at arm’s length and stares at him intently. He doesn’t need to say a word, Sam shakes his head and smiles lightly. _Not dying and not panning to_.

Dean gets it then, really does.

Their whole lives their embraces have been desperate, a necessity to console their minds that _yes_ he's alive. Or, _this might be the last time I'll see you_. Affection was rarely physical between them — a shove here and there, maybe a pat on the shoulder. Hugs have been reserved for special occasions. Until now.

He swallows heavily. He wants to joke to lighten the mood and ask _how will you know if I’m planning another suicide stunt?_ but doesn’t. Sam would tell him to shut up and Dean doesn’t want to ruin the moment of understanding between them. They’re sick of it.

They are always going to fight and sacrifice themselves for each other. It’s an admittance of love out of a tragic chick flick, but damn it, Dean has never regretted it. During the course of the next few days, however, Dean learns to put all those bottled up feelings into soft touches. He learns that Sam comes alive under his hand the way he did when he sold his soul for him. He relaxes into every hug and sighs against Dean’s neck, hot breath against Dean’s skin, and their hearts beat as one.

Sam smiles when his hands lingers after they part.

It’s goddamn enchanting. When Sam gifts him a smile Dean’s chest begins to hurt, his breathing shivers, and today, Dean slides his tingling fingers into Sam’s hair to bring his head down to his shoulder, cradling him and pressing him close against him in another embrace. Just because.

Just because they can, and because they’re getting older and death could come for them any day, coming closer any minute, and Dean — Dean wants to show him that he loves him without having to risk their lives for the umpteenth time. Being affectionate for the sake of it.

This one lasts longer than usual and he’s a tumult of the emotions he has had his whole life, all the good ones that create a feeling of safety the longer he and Sam stand close. It’s a force deep inside that calms him, makes him feel like he’s protecting Sam, shielding him from every evil coming their way.

It’s as if they are the only two people left, wrapped up in nothing but love and devotion to one another. Sam’s name is on his tongue like the sweetest fruit and his own echoes softly in his ear. _Sam_. And, _Dean_.

  


A few days later a hunt goes wrong. Thank ~~God~~ , not deadly. But Dean’s ribs are hurting like a bitch and his whole back is colorful with bruises. Sam has a swollen red eye, blood on his lips, and an ugly gash on his thigh that Dean stitches up with care while Sam is barely able to keep his head up from exhaustion.

He collapses into Dean’s arm for a last hug before bed. It’s one of the kinds they try to leave behind, Dean can taste iron and his whole body screams in agony at the surprising force Sam musters up in his fatigue state. Sam’s body had always been familiar, but by now the muscles on his back, under Dean’s hand, are thoroughly explored terrain, and the beating of Sam’s heart against his chest is in sync with his, like it always is.

They release each other hesitantly and do their evening routine. Everything in Dean is aching to climb into Sam’s bed and drape himself over him and press him against the sheets until they can forget everything that has happened today. He is trembling with it.

Turning off the light gives him the last bit of courage to go through with it. He pulls down the covers and lays down on his side. With no delay Sam turns to face him and inches closer. For the first time in years they sleep in the same bed, wrapped around each other with no room for the fear and the monsters in the night. It's only them and after everything they’ve done they deserve it. They deserve this. _And nobody can take this from us._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Leave your thoughts and come check out my [tumblr](http://twobrothersfuckingeachother.tumblr.com) if you want
> 
> The amount of Kudos this is getting is crazy to me, thank you all so much!


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